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I need to get out of here.
My legs aren’t cooperating as well as my arms, so I have to shuffle them slowly off the side of the bed. The gold, glitzy room spins around me so I close my eyes to steady myself.
Come on, Poppy. You have to fight this. Get up. Get the fuck up and get out of here.
First things first, I have to figure out where “here” is. There’s a bay window on the other side of the room, that’ll be a start.
I push myself up onto my feet, but my legs collapse underneath me again.
“Fuck,” I croak, cursing myself for being so pathetic.
Suddenly, there’s a scraping sound from the other side of the door and it flies open.
The Devil darkens the doorway.
It’s instinctive to cower. To pull my legs up to my chest and tug the silk fabric around me. He did it. He really did it. There’s nothing about this beast I should underestimate.
He steps into the room and drinks me in. “You’re awake.” My eyes fly to the corners of the room, scanning the intricate ceiling molding for any trace of a camera. “Relax,” he drawls. “I could see the light turn on from the main house.”
Main house?
“Where am I?” I croak. My throat hurts from all of the screaming.
Instead of answering my question, he takes another step into the room, dominating the space with his imposing presence. He looks different today, and I can’t quite put my finger on why. His thick waves are pulled backward, tucked neatly behind his ears, and his tie sits tight under his Adam’s apple.
“Step into the light,” he demands. I don’t move. “I won’t ask you again.”
One thing I’ve learned about Lorcan Quinn in the few interactions I’ve had with him is he’s a man of his word. That, and the growl in his tone, forces me to stand. Unsteady on my legs, I step into the amber glow of the lamp.
“Look at me.”
The lump in my throat swells, threatening to block my airways. Clenching my jaw, I raise my eyes to his. He’s closer than I thought he was, so close that I can smell the cocktail of aftershave and soap lingering on his skin. So close that I can feel his chest vibrate when he lets out a small groan.
“When I claimed you at fifteen, you were nothing but collateral damage. But now, I think I might actually have a use for you.” A smirk tugs at the hard line of his mouth. “Come.”
He strides across the room and opens a door I didn’t even realize was there. My heart hammers against my chest as he shoves it open and flicks on a light. Through the doorway, I’m staring at a dozen versions of myself.
He stretches out his arm to guide me inside, his forearm pushing against the small of my back like a persistent tide.
A French-style boudoir. On one half of the room, five gilded mirrors reflect my shaking body from every angle. On the other side, another chaise lounge and a door that leads to god knows where. China plates, stained glass lamps, and gloomy oil paintings cover every white wall and surface.
The Devil looms over my shoulder.
“Take your robe off. Show me what I own.”
The shock of his words sends me stumbling forward, trying to get away from him. In one swift motion, he grabs my arm and spins me back around, so I have no choice but to stare at my reflection. I meet my own gaze.
I hate what I see. The sheer fear in my eyes. The streaks of mascara staining my cheeks from wailing like a baby at the restaurant.
Don’t be a coward, Poppy. Fear won’t get you out of here alive.
I reset my jaw and turn my gaze to his reflection. His amber eyes bore into mine. “Fuck off,” I hiss with all of the venom I have left.
He takes a step towards me, the fabric of his suit and the solid warmth of his body presses into my back. “You’ll learn very quickly not to talk back to me,” he snarls into my ear. “Now take it off or I’ll have you on your hands and knees, watching me fuck you from every angle.”
Lorcan Quinn is a man of his word,a small voice creeps into my head.Especially the most poisonous ones.
My cards are dealt. With a trembling hand, I tug at the cord and let the silk puddle on the plush carpet.
